Ah, today Arthur has a guest. It's that Frenchman Francis again; he's one of the few who know about Arthur raising you. He would always entertain you, or he would be fawning over how cute you are, or going on about how it's been so long since he's seen such and unloved micro-nation.

Unloved ..

Those words twisted your heart, feeling as if somebody had finally decided to run you through with a knife, and with an extra little bit of courage twisted the knife. Your hand clutched the fabric over your heart, pulling your small cloak over your head in a failed attempt to hide your pain from Francis.

But the Frenchman had already taken notice, smiling he walked towards a small vase. Hearing his retreating footsteps caused you to panic.

"(Y_n), you can stop crying now. I'm still here ." Hearing the Frenchman's words caused you to look at the blond haired man, eyes full of unshed tears. Startling him for a moment, he's never seen you like this. Shaking his head he handed you a small red flower, staring at it in wonder you tried grabbing the flower, only for the thorns to stab into your flesh.

You reeled back a bit, startled a bit Francis could only smile as he said. "Ah, perhaps our dear little Britan has not told you about roses. While they may be beautiful they are very dangerous as well." A rose? Oh, yeah you'd seen these flowers before in Arthur's garden; he would pick a few every now and then.

"Now (y_n) be careful, you can only admire the rose, if you hold it too close to you then you'll have more than a few scratches." With that Francis handed you the rose, you were soon enveloped in the wonderful smell of the rose, to notice that Francis had left you.

---

Returning home from the world meeting, Arthur quickly rushed to see you, Francis having told him that he'd given you a gift when he stopped by to see the Englishman. Worried about your safety, not knowing what that stupid Frog had given you, slamming open the door to where you would be Arthur felt his heart stop.

Curled up in your small fish bowl, your arms wrapped around the stem of a red rose, your face buried in its delicate red petals. Upon walking closer Arthur could see that you were covered in scratches, your hands were bleeding, but you have such a peaceful smile on your face.

Feeling the parent in him swell up, Arthur reached into the fish bowl, snatching the rose out of your hand. Causing you to wake up and to start screaming, it was only then that Arthur was able to see the full extent of the rose's thorns hurting you.

"Why would you hold this rose so close to you?! Do you not understand that these thorns can hurt you! What were you thinking when you fell asleep with this . thing!" Arthur spat out, while you're small form was trembling, may it have been from sadness or from anger Arthur wasn't sure.

"It's just a simple rose so stop crying (y_n) there's a millions others out there like this one!"

"It may be just a simple rose to you England but it means a lot to me! It was the first gift ever given to me!"

The sound of your small voice yelling at him echoed in his mind, this was the first time you'd ever called him 'England' preferring his human name rather than his country name. The next few events are a blur to him, be he remembers leaving you crying your small fist hitting the glass bowl, screaming obstinacies at him.

While a single rose lay forgotten on the ground, its delicate petals crushed.

Yeah~ I've managed an update after school again! Apparently one of the buses from town ran over a car, but the driver is okay from what Iíve heard. I would have posted this yesterday but...I was a bit sick, I still am sick, but Iím posting this because I want you all to read it!!!

Random Note: I was listening to Vicarious by Tool while writing this. xDDD Iím amazed that nothing tool related was thrown into this.

Oh yay! Your writing really is very good, fun to read too! Hope you feel better soon!BTW, I may have found a small error in the begining: "...so long since she's seen such and unloved micro-nation..." I don't mean to be rude, I'm just mentioning it.